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"My calculations are never wrong. You have seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. This may be modified by how much you struggle; it may take your enclosure longer to set, and extraneous splashes may reduce curing time by up to nineteen seconds."

Arka laughed - practically snorted - at the villain. She stared deep into Phantom's eyes. The demoness showed no fear, no remorse, and certainly no obedience.

"I'm sorry. Seven minutes until what? I thought I was going to be a table ornament! And I must say, with this outfit I'm quite fetching as a centerpiece. I'd probably have gone with a straitjacket myself, but then again - I'm the one with the fashion sense." Arka winked.

Phantom rested her head on her chin. "Down to seven minutes, three seconds."

Arka felt something warm welling up around her bottom. She couldn't see it - not with all these straps - but she could feel it, and she could smell it. MirageCorp's synthetic smart-materials lacked the pungent industrial odor of latex and had a more subtle chemical smell. It didn't thrill her in the same way.

However, the situation thrilled her all the same. It was welling up from below her; small jets splashed it onto her flanks and pipes, presumably deep within the table, let it well up around her. She wiggled her hips left and right. The warm, sticky substance coated her bottom and her elbows. She swallowed. She'd heard tales of her superiors enduring such fates, and seen first-hand examples of MirageCorp's enclosure; most suffered for a short time as a drone, a pet, a doll, or a plaything. She always assumed that the real troublemakers faced far more enduring fates.

"Your rubber enclosure will begin curing in about six minutes. That leaves you five minutes, nine seconds before your face and mouth are properly coated. I recognize your preternatural ability to survive without sustenance or respiration. As such, I see no need for extraneous devices like hoods or masks.

Besides, Arka, I want my guests to see your face. I want them to see your expression. Beauty in repose, an immortal preserved in cloying, inescapable encasement. Snugly bound and thoroughly embraced. A bit silly, I will admit. Normally I strive for something a little more intimate. But..."

Arka interrupted. "But you want to show me off. I'm honored. You've got so many loyal pets, and it's me of all your conquests that you want people to see!" She giggled for just a bit too long.

"I have already mentally simulated what it will be like. I plan to invite guests in while the room is still dark - and, in an instant, flash the lights on. It will give the whole room a good eyeful of your rubberized form. Do try and have a good facial expression. Perhaps a gentle smile, or maybe an open-mouthed scream of pleasure?" Phantom chuckled to herself and tapped a key on the table.

"I grow impatient. You now have four minutes."

Arka could hear the squeak of her inhibitor bands as she strained. She arched her back and flailed her fingers within her gloves.

"Hold, Phantom. You keep telling me the time. Are you expecting me to talk? Maybe make a deal?"

Phantom smiled. She tapped a key, and the stream of liquid slowed.

"You now have eight minutes."

====

A repost of an old image that I shared originally as a story. From 7 years ago, figure I could re-share it.

Art by Rlink: fav.me/d92x2w3

Red: CheshireQuill

Original story link: www.deviantart.com/phantomdote…

Posted using PostyBirb

Description

"My calculations are never wrong. You have seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. This may be modified by how much you struggle; it may take your enclosure longer to set, and extraneous splashes may reduce curing time by up to nineteen seconds."

Arka laughed - practically snorted - at the villain. She stared deep into Phantom's eyes. The demoness showed no fear, no remorse, and certainly no obedience.

"I'm sorry. Seven minutes until what? I thought I was going to be a table ornament! And I must say, with this outfit I'm quite fetching as a centerpiece. I'd probably have gone with a straitjacket myself, but then again - I'm the one with the fashion sense." Arka winked.

Phantom rested her head on her chin. "Down to seven minutes, three seconds."

Arka felt something warm welling up around her bottom. She couldn't see it - not with all these straps - but she could feel it, and she could smell it. MirageCorp's synthetic smart-materials lacked the pungent industrial odor of latex and had a more subtle chemical smell. It didn't thrill her in the same way.

However, the situation thrilled her all the same. It was welling up from below her; small jets splashed it onto her flanks and pipes, presumably deep within the table, let it well up around her. She wiggled her hips left and right. The warm, sticky substance coated her bottom and her elbows. She swallowed. She'd heard tales of her superiors enduring such fates, and seen first-hand examples of MirageCorp's enclosure; most suffered for a short time as a drone, a pet, a doll, or a plaything. She always assumed that the real troublemakers faced far more enduring fates.

"Your rubber enclosure will begin curing in about six minutes. That leaves you five minutes, nine seconds before your face and mouth are properly coated. I recognize your preternatural ability to survive without sustenance or respiration. As such, I see no need for extraneous devices like hoods or masks.

Besides, Arka, I want my guests to see your face. I want them to see your expression. Beauty in repose, an immortal preserved in cloying, inescapable encasement. Snugly bound and thoroughly embraced. A bit silly, I will admit. Normally I strive for something a little more intimate. But..."

Arka interrupted. "But you want to show me off. I'm honored. You've got so many loyal pets, and it's me of all your conquests that you want people to see!" She giggled for just a bit too long.

"I have already mentally simulated what it will be like. I plan to invite guests in while the room is still dark - and, in an instant, flash the lights on. It will give the whole room a good eyeful of your rubberized form. Do try and have a good facial expression. Perhaps a gentle smile, or maybe an open-mouthed scream of pleasure?" Phantom chuckled to herself and tapped a key on the table.

"I grow impatient. You now have four minutes."

Arka could hear the squeak of her inhibitor bands as she strained. She arched her back and flailed her fingers within her gloves.

"Hold, Phantom. You keep telling me the time. Are you expecting me to talk? Maybe make a deal?"

Phantom smiled. She tapped a key, and the stream of liquid slowed.

"You now have eight minutes."

====

A repost of an old image that I shared originally as a story. From 7 years ago, figure I could re-share it.

Art by Rlink: fav.me/d92x2w3

Red: CheshireQuill

Original story link: www.deviantart.com/phantomdote…

Posted using PostyBirb